


Nuh uh, no way.

by madlaw



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Did the Thai food get cold?, Dominant Shaw, F/F, Lesbian Sex, Machine helps Root get the girl, Random Stranger used as a plot device, Shaw's New Place, Sneakily Submissive Root, Sneaky Machine, Speechless Root? Maybe, Strap-On Makes An Appearance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-04
Updated: 2017-04-10
Packaged: 2018-10-14 22:45:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10545612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madlaw/pseuds/madlaw
Summary: Okay this is way out of my comfort zone, not like the stuff I usually write for them, but I guess I just wanted to explore the power dynamics.  I may even take this down.  Still, let me know what you think!





	1. Oops! Or Shaw Comes Home Early

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Root’s standing there not at all self conscious, grinning, the strap-on proudly displayed while the anonymous woman gets dressed in a hurry. As she lunges for the door, Shaw stops her and looks back at Root gesturing with her hand in a gimme that motion. “But Sameen…” Shaw widens her eyes with a look that says don’t test me. Root strips off the harness and Shaw hooks it over whatever her name may be’s shoulder. “Consider it a parting gift.” She closes the door behind her and turns to Root.

Shaw’s been here often enough to know where to step to avoid the torn up linoleum in the hallway and the burnt out light bulbs.  She hears moans from the other side of the door and she smirks, figuring Root’s watching lesbian porn, because those are not her moans; Shaw’s intimately familiar with those.  The woman’s addicted to pussy.  But when she opens the door a very different sight greets her.

There’s a swarthy woman bent over the table and Root’s fucking her from behind with a strap-on.  Root puts her finger to her lips and shrugs.  It’s like she wants to let the woman come before her night goes sideways.  The woman’s, not Root’s.  Root won’t be able to climax from that position anyway; she’s just getting off on the power. 

Shaw’s not sure what she wants to do.  It’s Root’s apartment, at least for now, and she can fuck anyone she wants and she wasn’t expecting Shaw.  It’s not like this show was designed for her.  But Shaw’s never played well with others and well, Root’s hers.  She looks at Root and slices her finger across her carotid slowly.  Root knows when Shaw’s serious and she’s definitely not playing around.

Root backs up and the other woman moans in frustration before she realizes the weight on her back is gone.  She jerks up and notices Shaw.  “Oh hey, I don’t know what you guys are into but I was just looking to get laid.  I’m not interested in a threesome,” as she backpedals towards the door. 

Shaw studies her disinterestedly.  “Lucky for you it’s not that kind of party, but you might want to be a little more careful who you pick up in the future.  You never know what kind of psychopath or even sociopath lives behind a pretty face.”  She studies Root.  “Okay a gorgeous face and an admittedly awesome body.”

Root’s standing there not at all self conscious, grinning, the strap-on proudly displayed while the anonymous woman gets dressed in a hurry.  As she lunges for the door, Shaw stops her and looks back at Root gesturing with her hand in a gimme that motion.  “But Sameen…”  Shaw widens her eyes with a look that says don’t test me.  Root strips off the harness and Shaw hooks it over whatever her name may be’s shoulder.  “Consider it a parting gift.”  She closes the door behind her and turns to Root.

“Do me a favor.  Go take a shower.  I don’t want to smell another woman’s sex on your body.”  Root rolls her eyes and smiles like she’s humoring a small child.  But her kink doesn’t run that way either so she takes a quick shower coming back to the living room in only a towel.  “You’re back early sweetie.”

“Yeah, amazing what kinds of things go on when I’m not around.”  Shaw’s look remains impassive but she doesn’t seem angry.  “No more fucking other women Root.  Or men for that matter, but I know that’s pretty unlikely for you anyway.”

Root gives her an innocent smile.  “But Sameen.  We agreed.  Just fucking, no relationships, no girlfriends, no commitment, oh and I’m pretty sure you specified no exclusivity in case I didn’t get the hint from the just fucking label.”

“They still apply, except you don’t get to touch anyone but me.”

Root smiles knowingly.  “That hardly seems fair Sameen.  You know I have an insatiable sex drive.  Unless you’re saying you’re going to make yourself available…”  Root whispers coyly looking at Shaw from under her eyelashes.  “Maybe.  Maybe not.  Depends.”

“Well, can I expect this’ll be a two way street?  You touch no one but me?”  Here’s where they both pretend Root doesn’t know Shaw hasn’t fucked anyone else in months.  “Until I say otherwise, yes.”

“You know Sameen, that was my favorite harness,” she pouts.  “Don’t worry; you won’t need it for a few days.  I’ll buy you another one after I’m done reminding you why you don’t want anyone but me inside you.  I certainly don’t need any toys.”

Root pouts while she tries to contain her absolute joy at this turn of events.  It never occurred to her She would help bring Shaw closer.  The instructions were kind of weird and oddly precise, but Root always follows Her without question anyway. Still, she won't be sharing that tidbit with Shaw.


	2. Keeping Root Quiet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shaw gentles her through it and Root can’t fight the exhaustion pulling her into sleep.  
> Shaw laughs softly. Maybe there is a way to keep Root quiet after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is basically 2700+ words of smut. I'm still not sure I like this dynamic so this may be the last chapter. But hey, let me know what you think.
> 
> Oh and you might recognize the sex on the table scene...at least I tried to recreate verbally anyway.

Shaw reaches out and flicks the knot on Root’s towel letting it drop to the floor.  She holds Root’s gaze with an intensity that starts wetness pooling between Root’s legs.  She rubs the pad of her finger lightly across Root’s sharp collarbone, tracing her small breasts, grazing her pink nipples, down her flat stomach, and teasingly circling the small patch of smooth hair just above her clit.  There’s a hitch in Root’s breathing.  “Sameen.”  But one look from Shaw silences her.  It’s the one warning her Shaw will stop if she speaks.  But Root’s allowed to make any sound she pleases; it’s the one thing Shaw never controls.

Shaw continues outlining Root’s body with her finger, down her muscled thigh, and up its back.  “Turn around.  Slowly.”  Shaw’s husky voice captures Root like a snake coiling gradually around her body.  Root lets out a soft sigh and turns, subtly clenching her taut ass.  Root willingly gives Shaw all the power, but what little control Shaw allows her, she wields like a master.

Shaw continues her gentle exploration up Root’s ass, a little firmer now, up her proud back, rubbing the edges of her shoulder blades, until her hand comes to rest on Root’s shoulder.  Her fingers squeeze gently at her throat while her thumb strokes the nape of Root’s neck.  She wraps her free hand around Root’s waist and presses into her body, her palm flat against Root’s pelvic bone.  Root moans and she knows Shaw can sense the heat of her arousal, just like she’s aware of Shaw’s racing heart against her back. 

She feels Shaw’s hot breath in her ear, every nerve a tight wire, and Shaw has barely touched her.  But it’s always this way.  Shaw knows exactly how to ignite Root’s body and stoke her until she’s a roaring blaze and only Shaw can extinguish the fire.

Shaw runs two fingers down Root’s pubic bone possessively, gracing her slit imperceptibly, while avoiding her throbbing clit.  She feels Shaw’s voice vibrating through her skin and she stops breathing.  “You’re so wet.  Tell me Root; is that all about me, or tonight’s earlier activities?”  Root shifts ever so subtly into Shaw’s fingers but doesn’t push it.  If she breaks the rules the game ends.  However she’s always allowed to answer Shaw’s questions so long as she does it honestly and succinctly.  “It’s always about you Sameen.”

Shaw caresses Root’s defined abs thoughtfully.  “Get dressed and grab your things.  You’re not coming back here.”  She releases Root’s body and Root shudders at the loss.  She’s so aroused she thinks the brush of her panties may cause an orgasm.  But she breathes deeply until she’s more under control.  She wants her orgasms straight from Shaw.

It doesn’t take Root long to grab her stuff.  Except for a few clothes, her laptop’s her only possession.  Even less since Shaw gave away her sex toy. 

She looks into Shaw’s eyes insecurely, but something there reassures her.  Root wants to know exactly what Shaw means.  Not for now or not ever?  Or…?  She doesn’t even know how to frame it.  But something in the way Shaw looks at her makes her hold her tongue.  Root thinks even Shaw may not know exactly what she’s asking. 

Shaw clasps their hands, not tenderly but firmly, and they walk out into the cool night air.  Root trips over a pothole because she’s staring at Shaw instead of looking where she’s going, but Shaw catches her before she falls.  She rolls her eyes and grabs Root’s messenger bag, flinging it over her shoulder.  “Maybe if you stopped perving on me you’d be able to walk without hurting yourself.”

“But Sameen, perving on you is one of my favorite pastimes.  Next to…”

“Don’t.”

Root laughs musically and Shaw shakes her head but almost smiles.  She’ll never tell Root, but her laugh always touches something inside and makes her warm.

 

* * *

 

They’re walking into an unfamiliar building and the Machine tells Root its Shaw’s new apartment.  Root waits for more information but She’s silent.  “New place sweetie?”  Shaw nods, but in typical fashion does not elaborate.

Root follows Shaw through the door and into a large living area with an open floor plan.  The space is perfectly Shaw.  Minimal furniture, mostly wood and stone, and muted colors with the exception of a splash of red from the floor rug under the coffee table.  “Sameen, its perfect!” Root squeals.  Shaw rolls her eyes and shakes her head at Root’s overly enthusiastic assessment, but she relaxes her shoulders, pleased nonetheless. 

Shaw drops Root’s bag onto the couch and heads for the fridge.  A navy blue granite countertop delineates the kitchen from the rest of the room and Root perches against it.  Shaw grabs a beer and pours Root a glass of wine.  Root smiles but doesn’t make a big deal about it.  Shaw knows Root prefers wine when she drinks, which isn’t often.  It also happens to be Root’s favorite white.  There’s also a fruit bowl on the counter full of red apples; Shaw hates apples.

Shaw opens a drawer and brings out a menu.  “I’m hungry.  Thai okay?  Or are you going to give me the usual line about how you already ate when you really mean I haven’t eaten since yesterday?”

Root smiles seductively.  “I’m hungry.  Just not for food.”  Shaw rolls her eyes and picks up the phone.  She orders for both of them, having eaten enough with Root to know what she’ll at least nibble on.  “I need a shower.  The place is just down the street so the food will be here soon.”

“Want company?”  Root asks innocently.

“No.  There’s cash on the table by the door.”  Root pouts disappointingly, which has absolutely no effect on Shaw.

 

* * *

 

Shaw’s shower beats the food delivery and Root’s stretched out on the couch when she comes out.  She’s wearing a tank and boy shorts and Root smiles appreciatively.  No one makes such casual clothes look as hot as Shaw.  She’s bra-less and her pert nipples poke through the tank while the shorts cling to her tight ass.  Root’s shirt has ridden up and a small sliver of pale skin peeks out, and her feet are bare, her black manicure impeccable.  One hand is tucked behind her head and the other one lies casually on top of the zipper of her jeans, which is partially open.  Suddenly Shaw’s hungry for something else too.  She knows Root purposefully laid herself out like an offering, but somehow that only makes it hotter.

Root notes Shaw’s dilated pupils and stands slowly.  Shaw’s piercing black eyes rake her body brazenly and she whispers, “You know, I’m not hungry for Thai…”  Root reads Shaw’s body like her favorite book and unlike earlier, this time Shaw wants Root to fight, she doesn’t want her surrender, Shaw wants to overpower her, to conquer.  Root looks at her seductively from under pale lashes, “there’s another way we could go,” she grins knowingly.  She moves towards Shaw, but it’s too slow for them both and she lunges, gripping Shaw’s face in her hands.  But Shaw grabs her forearms and turns her forcefully.  Root hangs on to Shaw’s upper arms and they stare at each other, the air heavy with sexual tension.

Shaw grips Root’s face in her hands, leaning towards her lips in slow motion.  Root runs her fingers down Shaw’s face as they breathe into each other’s mouths hotly.  Shaw nibbles on Root’s lower lip momentarily, before surging in and claiming it between hers.  The force of the kiss propels them towards the couch and Shaw tries to twist Root underneath her, but height and momentum favor Root and she lands on top, bracing herself on Shaw’s arms, using her body weight to pin her, strands of her hair framing her face sexily.  “Guess you’re hungry for me now,” she grins, out of breath.  A seductive smile appears on Shaw’s bruised lips.

Root leans in for another kiss and Shaw relaxes into it, then uses Root’s distraction to push her off.  “Shut up.”  She pushes Root violently back onto the dining room table, plates and glasses shattering onto the floor.  Before Root can recover, Shaw rips her shirt open, buttons popping, exposing Root’s lacey black bra and small firm breasts to Shaw’s eager eyes.  She pushes the shirt over Root’s arms and the fight starts to leave Root, because she wants this, wants Shaw’s mouth all over her, but Shaw’s exposed neck comes tantalizingly close to her mouth, and she bites it sharply.  She expects Shaw to push her off, but instead Shaw exposes her neck, giving Root permission to mark her.  Root sucks deliciously on her skin and Shaw’s moans are sharp and deep as she holds Root to her, letting her scent fill her lungs, citrusy and sweet and wild, so uniquely Root.

But Root’s mouth on her neck and greedy hands on her ass feel like flames licking at Shaw’s core, and spur her to wrest back control.  She runs her hands up Root’s body powerfully, leaving Root no choice but to fall back as Shaw’s hands reach for her breasts, using her palms to massage Root’s nipples roughly.  Root throws her head back moaning and the feel of Shaw’s body between her legs sends liquid heat rushing to her center, desire twisting in her belly.  When Shaw straightens up and tears Root’s pants down her legs, Root surrenders.  The force of Shaw’s desire overwhelms her and she wants desperately for Shaw to take her.

Her skin burns when it meets Shaw’s and she’s delirious with want and need.  She feels Shaw’s hips grind against hers as Shaw pulls her up and tears her panties off, thrusting into Root without warning, strong and deep, Root screams Shaw’s name and thrusts her hips higher off the table, leaning back on her elbows. 

Shaw grips Root’s thigh with her free hand and slides her down the table so her ass hangs off the edge and she straightens Root’s leg over her shoulder, opening her up even further, now using four fingers to fuck her, her biceps pumping like pistons pushing her hand into Root’s drenched and swollen slit, drawing wanton cries from Root’s lips, until her whole hand slips inside and she’s fisting Root, until she’s thrashing, her orgasm ripping through her.  Root loses track of time, of her surroundings, of everything except the feel of Shaw inside her, and the pleasure raping her body, until lights burst behind her eyes and she blacks out.

 

* * *

 

She wakes groggily on Shaw’s bed with Shaw between her legs, licking her nipples with broad slow strokes.  “Sameen,” she starts to speak but her throats sore so she swallows and clears it, “I don’t think I have words…”  She stops when Shaw laughs softly, but not unkindly.  It’s rare when Shaw laughs and her eyes are soft and open, their usual wariness lost for the moment.  “Root, I doubt I’ll live to see the day when words escape you.”  Root pouts and makes a show of zipping her mouth and throwing away the key.

Shaw considers it a challenge and licks at the skin under Root’s breasts, just at the line where they meet her skin.  She loves the way Root’s breasts fit perfectly into her hands and she massages them erotically, occasionally stroking the sensitive nipples with the pads of her thumbs.  Root bites back a moan, but she knows Shaw heard it anyway. 

Shaw places small bites over the tender flesh, which she knows will leave bruises and remind Root of her when they’re not together.  She doesn’t examine why the thought pleases her, but she knows marking Root’s another way of possessing her and Shaw never tires of it.  She soothes her bites with her wet tongue and lifts up to admire Root’s flushed chest, licking the valley between her breasts.

Even after the body melting orgasm Root just experienced, she feels arousal once again kindling her body, a thin sheen of sweat gracing her skin even in the cool apartment.  She tries to take calming breaths and prove to Shaw she can keep quiet even under her sensual assault, but when she feels Shaw grip her nipple between her thumb and index finger and pinch it gently, she knows she’s fighting a losing battle.

Shaw keeps pinching Root’s nipples lightly, kissing the skin around them in turn, her mouth meandering unhurriedly.  Root’s moan tears from her throat against her will and Shaw starts licking and teasing her skin before finally letting her lips suck at Root’s aching nipples.  Root squirms and her body betrays her, pushing her breasts into Shaw’s hot mouth.  Root can feel Shaw’s smile on her skin, but she bites back the retort on her lips.  Shaw licks and blows across her chest, eliciting another guttural and desperate moan from Root.

Root thinks she’s won when Shaw releases her nipples, but she should’ve known better.  Shaw never gives up until she finds a winning strategy.  She starts sucking her way down Root’s body, leaving painful hickeys as she goes.  The pain causes another rush of wetness to Root’s pussy, leaving a wet spot under her ass.  Root’s hands are tangled in her hair, trying to distract herself from the pleasure ravaging her body and the words that are fighting to spill from her traitorous mouth.

As Shaw reaches the apex of Root’s thighs she sits back on her haunches, but Root knows better than to think Shaw’s given up.  Shaw gazes at her thoughtfully, and then grins wickedly.  “Spread your legs Root, knees up.”  Root hesitates just for show, but the only way she can stop Shaw is to use her safe word and she’s not willing to give her the satisfaction, plus she doesn’t really want her to stop.  So she obeys with a nonchalant look feigning a control she doesn’t have a prayer of maintaining.

Shaw settles between her legs again, and nips sharply at Root’s pubic bone, immediately soothing with her hot tongue, her hands gripping Root’s hips where she knows it drives Root crazy.  Root’s moans are almost verbal as Shaw spreads her legs further, but her brain short circuits from the electricity traveling through Shaw’s hot, wet tongue as she parts her slit slowly, licking up and down, avoiding her clit, until Root feels her inside, tongue fucking her skillfully, hitting every spot she knows drives Root to the edge.

She sets a maddening pace and need spirals through Root and she forgets why she’s fighting so hard not to speak.  Shaw knows Root’s about to cave, she loves the feel of Shaw’s tongue doing exactly what she’s doing exactly how she’s doing it, plus she knows her next move will drive Root to begging.

She crooks her right index finger and slides it between Root’s dripping folds, coating it with Root’s arousal, then running it down her ass, circling her hot rim.  Her tongue and her finger move in tandem working Root over expertly, but Shaw slows down and changes the rhythm when she feels Root’s muscles clenching and brings her back from the edge until Root submits and begs.  “Please Sameen, don’t stop!”  She’s rambling feverishly.  “I’m begging, please Sameen, let me come, please!”

Shaw stops her tongue momentarily, although her finger keeps working Root’s ass, and Root howls in frustration.  “Root, do you want me to fuck your ass while I tongue fuck your pussy and stroke your clit?”  Shaw’s words almost drive Root over the edge but Shaw has her perfectly balanced on a fulcrum of pleasure so tense, Root knows only Shaw can release her.  “Fuck it Sameen!  Yes! Yes! Please! Now!”  Shaw pushes her finger in to her first knuckle as she strokes Root’s clit for the first time, her tongue eating her out enthusiastically, and Root explodes, sheets tight between her fists, muscles spasms so sharp its only Shaw’s powerful forearm holding her in place until every last ounce of pleasure bleeds from her body.  Shaw gentles her through it and Root can’t fight the exhaustion pulling her into sleep.

Shaw laughs softly.  Maybe there is a way to keep Root quiet after all.


	3. Fingers vs. Tongue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “However, I do have some time yet. I wouldn’t want to leave you frustrated and alone.” Shaw rolls her eyes and waves her hand in the air. “Not alone.” Root smiles knowingly. “I know you prefer my tongue to your fingers Sameen; don’t delude yourself.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short chapter so Root can return the favor. ;) There's one more chapter which will include a mission, but I suspect eventually there may be more chapters. I think I'm finding my groove with this version of Shoot.

Root wakes a few hours later when the Machine alerts her to a new mission.

Shaw’s sleeping next to her, on her stomach, a hand thrown casually over Root’s body.  She’s breathing deeply, all the muscles in her face and body relaxed, her breasts rising and falling gently with each breath.  Root doesn’t move, savoring the moment.  It always blows her away; the intimacy of Shaw holding her in her sleep.  It’s not a conscious act; Shaw would never allow herself to show such vulnerability willingly.  But whenever they sleep together Shaw ends up with some part of her body on top of Root. 

Shaw knows it happens, usually she’s awake long before Root, but she ignores it, and Root never mentions it, not putting it past Shaw to kick her out of bed just to avoid it.  But lately Shaw’s not rushing to move away the minute she’s awake.  Instead she shifts her body closer to Root, her hand resting somewhere on Root’s body.  Root never tries to reciprocate or move any closer, letting Shaw dictate the space between them, but it still feels safe and familiar, like home. 

Root appreciates the Machine woke her early, giving her time to spend with Shaw before she has to leave.  She wonders what Shaw expects from her.  Should she come back here when the mission’s complete?  Go back to her apartment?  The subway?  Have the Machine find her a new place?  She decides not to bring it up.  She’ll figure out when the time comes. 

She caresses Shaw’s face lightly with her fingertips, brushing back a few strands of hair.  Shaw’s a light sleeper and wakes instantly, but her body tells her there’s no danger and she opens her eyes slowly.  “Hey sweetie.”  Shaw quirks her lips in a smug smile.  “Do you remember now?” 

Root smiles affectionately, knowing exactly what Shaw’s asking.  “Absolutely.  Unfortunately more reminders will have to wait.  I need to leave soon.”  Root could swear something like disappointment flashes through Shaw’s eyes, but Shaw just nods. 

“However, I do have some time yet.  I wouldn’t want to leave you frustrated and alone.”  Shaw rolls her eyes and waves her hand in the air.  “Not alone.”  Root smiles knowingly.  “I know you prefer my tongue to your fingers Sameen; don’t delude yourself.”  Shaw shrugs and captures Root’s mouth, tugging her lip between her teeth. 

Its lazy morning sex, which is extremely rare for them, but Root loves it because it’s warm and slow, with cresting orgasms and lots of kissing.  She nuzzles Shaw’s neck, inhaling the sleepy scent of her warm skin, tugging on her earlobe.  Shaw moans and pulls her closer as Root runs her tongue along the rim of her ear and nibbles and licks down to her breasts. 

Shaw will groan and moan judiciously during sex, but she’s not one for talking.  Occasionally she’ll call Root’s name, but that’s it, and it usually sounds like it’s drawn from her lips against her will.  But Root’s learned to read Shaw’s body the same way she reads her enigmatic eyes.  Shaw’s arousal intensifies in her typically subtle way—not a sudden sunburst, but an oil lamp being turned slowly up. 

Root bites lightly at the underside of her breasts, capturing a nipple with her teeth and tugging until Shaw hisses, then soothes with her lips and tongue.  She roams and tastes every inch of Shaw’s breasts for several long minutes.  She can feel Shaw’s wetness on her thigh and her fingers on Root’s back are growing insistent in their demands for Root to shift lower. 

Root scoots down the bed and nips at Shaw’s hipbone and Shaw tries to subtly guide her mouth to where she wants it.  Root follows her lead and brushes her tongue over Shaw’s clit, coaxing it out of hiding.  Shaw rewards her with a low moan sending shivers down Root’s back.  

Root licks the length of her sex and Shaw spreads her legs, raising one knee up and resting her foot on the bed, opening herself up to Root’s mouth.  Wetness rushes between Root’s legs at the sight of Shaw soaking and hot and open, just for her, rolling her hips subconsciously, lifting into Root’s mouth.  She flattens her tongue and works Shaw over, light and slow, fast and hard.  “Sameen you taste so fucking good.” 

“Root.”  The sound of her name on Shaw’s lips thrills her and she thrusts two fingers into Shaw’s hot and swollen slit.  They gasp simultaneously.  “You’re so wet.”  Root starts thrusting rhythmically and Shaw bucks, gripping the sheet tightly in her fists.  Shaw’s so wet and open it’s not enough friction so Root inserts another finger with her next stroke and sucks on Shaw’s clit while swirling her tongue, plunging faster and harder inside, hitting Shaw’s g-spot with every stroke.  Shaw grips Root’s head, holding her in place and comes hard with a strangled gasp, Root’s name on her lips.  Root stays inside, letting her ride out her orgasm until Shaw finally slumps back onto the bed, struggling to catch her breath.  

Root crawls up her body and claims her mouth before Shaw can squirm away.  But soon enough Shaw recovers and shoves her off gently.  Root hums in pleasure, a wide grin on her face.  Shaw smirks, but rewards her with a kiss, claiming her mouth, their tongues moving languidly against each other.  “So?  Mouth better than fingers?”  Shaw rolls her eyes and shakes her head.  “A bit.”  Root slaps her playfully and hops out of bed before Shaw can retaliate.  “I need a shower.”

 

* * *

 

Shaw makes coffee and places toast in front of Root pointedly along with a third of her omelet.  Root eats obediently while she listens to the Machine’s instructions.  Shaw can tell when Root’s listening to the Machine because she tilts her head and gets a faraway look in her eyes.  When Root looks back down, Shaw asks about the mission.  “So local or international?” 

“Local.”  Root finishes her coffee and heads for the door grabbing her jacket.  She slips it on but instead of leaving she cozies up to Shaw placing a kiss just below her ear.  “Thanks sweetie.  I’ll call you.”  Shaw hands her an apple from the fruit bowl and Root’s smile bursts from her eyes. 

As she reaches the door Root remembers all of her things, few as they may be, are now here.  “Uh, about my stuff.” 

“Leave it.”  Root doesn’t wait to be told twice.


	4. Root's Pole Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Root recognizes the anger in Shaw’s eyes and she wonders if it’s caused by the surprise of Root being on the same mission or by the fact Root’s dancing almost naked for a crowd of strangers, wearing nothing but a g-string barely covering her pussy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this is the end for now. i may in the distant future add some chapters. Sorry if the ending came off too sappy, but I just don't believe Shaw's heartless or so unaware. As always, feed the author!

“Ms. Shaw, we have a number.” 

“I’ll be there in 20.” 

Shaw enters the combination into the vending machine and the door creaks open.  She ducks through and is immediately assaulted by stale air and the clacks of a keyboard.  She glimpses Finch’s back through the smudged window of the subway car, hunched over his laptop.  Reese stands at the gun locker, stocking up on ammunition. 

“Reese.” 

“Shaw.” 

“What’s the story?” 

“Not sure.  We have a number, but all Finch’s been able to uncover is a name, Alex Croft, and an employer, Desire, a club in the financial district.  Evidently the number doesn’t have a significant digital footprint.” 

“It’s very troubling Mr. Reese.  We have no clue whether the number is the victim or perpetrator or what type of trouble he may be about to encounter.  I believe you and Ms. Shaw should begin surveillance of the club since it’s the only information we have to go on.” 

Shaw looks at Reese and shrugs.  “It could be anything.  Drugs, prostitution, money laundering…any of which could lead to murder, but I’m not sure we’ll learn anything on a stakeout at a nightclub in the middle of the afternoon.” 

“Perhaps Ms. Shaw, but we have no idea how much time we have to save or stop the number.  It seems prudent to follow up on the only information we do have.” 

It’s a fair point.  Shaw grabs the camera and heads out with Reese.

 

* * *

 

Shaw feels the heat rising from the asphalt through the floorboards of the car causing sweat to pool at the back of her knees and the apex of her thighs.  “You think you could’ve boosted a crappier car Reese?  It’s roasting in here.” 

“Sorry Shaw.  They were all out of Ferraris.”  Shaw rolls her eyes and scowls.  “I would’ve settled for a Buick.”  Reese curls his upper lip and looks through the camera lens, unflappable demeanor intact.  

The club is in a nondescript brick building, garbage cans littering the sidewalk nearby.  A small sign hangs in the mostly blacked out window.  It probably lights up in garish colors at night, a beacon to potential patrons. 

“Heard from Root?” 

“Why would I?” 

It doesn’t escape Reese Shaw just answered a question with a question and somewhat defensively too.  He glances at her stoically.  “No reason Shaw.  Just making conversation.” 

“Fusco must be rubbing off on you Reese; you’re sounding like a gossipy old lady.”

 

* * *

 

A pickup truck with a cracked windshield pulls up to the curb, a naked dashboard hula doll on prominent display, brakes screeching.  “Classy.” 

“You don’t appreciate memorabilia Shaw?  Those are classics.”  Shaw scoffs.  “More like pervert’s accessory.” 

Reese snaps a couple of shots.  “There are boxes in the bed of the truck with the name of a liquor store stamped on the side, Larry’s Libations.  Catchy.”  Shaw rolls her eyes as she calls Finch to have him run a search. 

“It appears the store went out of business two years ago Ms. Shaw, although there’s no current business licensed at the address.  I’ll text it to your phone now.” 

Shaw decides to check it out while Reese sits on the club.

 

* * *

 

The address is on a seedy side street, the storefront shabby and boarded up.  Shaw sets up across the street, observing the delivery area around the back.  There’s a door propped open, but the sunlight doesn’t penetrate the gloom inside and Shaw can’t see much.  But a few minutes later a portly man dressed in a suit walks out, gesticulating with his hands as he talks on his cell phone.  Shaw’s never understood why people do that.  It’s not like the person on the other end of the line can see you.  His face is flushed and he’s scowling, but Shaw’s not close enough to make out the conversation. 

There’s some foot traffic in the area and she slips into the milieu, moving close enough to clone his phone and eavesdrop.  “I’m not telling Miller the shipment is late!  So you better get it to the club ASAP.” 

“Calm down.  We’ll have it there tonight.  But what about Croft?” 

“Don’t worry.  I’ll take care of Alex.  There’s a cement bath waiting.” 

A brawny older woman, knotted lumps of muscle on her lean frame, exits and locks the door, eyes scanning the area vigilantly.  They leave in a late model sedan.  Shaw calls Finch with the license plate number. 

The padlock only takes her a few seconds to pick and she slips inside.  She tenses momentarily when she hears a faint scratching sound before she spots a Norway rat, its broad yellow incisors glinting in the faint light streaming through the door.  It squeaks indignantly at Shaw’s invasion of its turf.  Shaw hates rats.  She’s not afraid of anything, but they creep her out.  She shivers a little and decides to get on with her search so she can get the hell out of here. 

There are two types of empty shipping crates stacked by the back door.  The first type is crush resistant, hardened, reusable aluminum boxes.  Shaw recognizes them immediately.  They’re weapon round containers, otherwise known as mono boxes.  The second type is thin, wood sided boxes surrounding a foam insert, now empty. They look like lettuce crates.  Shit. 

She opens the comms to Reese and Finch.  “Our number’s the victim.  Someone at the club is trafficking stinger missiles.  It sounds like our number got suspicious and they plan to eliminate him.” 

“It is imperative you and Mr. Reese intercept the shipment before it leaves the club,” Finch remarks urgently.  Shaw rolls her eyes and sighs.  Yes, even though Finch can’t see, although he probably hears it in her tone.  Captain obvious really gets on her nerves sometimes.  

“The license plate you sent me Ms. Shaw is registered to a Reginald Miller.  Not surprisingly, he’s also listed as the CEO of Dance Clubs Ltd, which does business as the club Desire.  I think you and Mr. Reese need to patronize the club tonight and locate those missiles before they’re used in some type of attack.” 

“Sounds like we’re going clubbing Shaw.”

 

* * *

 

Reese and Shaw arrive at the club separately.  It’s nearing midnight and there’s a small line of club goers waiting to get inside.  Shaw’s mini black dress hugs her curves in all the right places and her midnight hair frames her face.  Reese’s traded his trademark suit for dark blue jeans and a black shirt under a black leather jacket.  

The loud thumping music vibrates through the front door where a beefy bouncer is checking IDs and turning people away.  There’s a list.  Shaw approaches him with her sexiest smile and lets her hand scrape lightly across his arm.  “Hi, I’m supposed to meet my boyfriend here but I’m late and he’s pissed off so he went in without me.  I need to find him or I’ll never hear the end of it.”  The bouncer smiles and Shaw steps past him, but his hand darts out to block her.  “Sweetheart, you know how many sob stories I hear a night?  If you’re not on the list, you’re not getting inside, so call lover boy and have him come get you.” 

Shaw smiles sarcastically and calls Reese.  “I need a distraction.”  Three seconds later a loud bang sounds across the street and people scatter.  The bouncer gets on his radio and Shaw slips by while he’s distracted.  She feels someone at her elbow and turns to find Reese, who also made his way inside during the commotion.  “A flash-bang Reese?  Really?” 

His lips twitch minutely.  “It worked.” 

Shaw rolls her eyes and shakes her head.  Reese’s answer to everything is to either shoot it or blow it up.  “We need to get Croft to safety before we go after the missile.”  Reese nods and heads to the back of the club while Shaw approaches the bar.  The bartenders are rushing to keep up with the orders, squeezing lemon and lime wedges and flinging cherries into drinks.  Bottles of alcohol line a mirrored wall behind the bar.  Shaw catches the eye of one of the bartenders in the mirror as he’s ringing up an order at the register.  She winks and he smiles, turning to her when he’s done. 

“What can I get you gorgeous?”  Shaw hides her cringe and smiles at him sexily.  “Bourbon.  Neat.”  He pours her drink with expert precision.  “That’ll be $14.”  Shaw hands him a $50, but holds his hand before he turns away.  “I’m also looking for Alex Croft.”  His smile fades until Shaw tells him he can keep the change.  “Upstairs.” 

Shaw slams her drink back and heads for the stairs.  The black painted walls blend with the dark steps and Shaw curses herself for wearing heels, but she survives the climb.  There’s another bar at the top of the stairs along with dance poles placed strategically across the space.  Shaw grabs the arm of a harried waitress as she passes by.  She’s dressed skimpily, carrying a glowing tray of drinks, and Shaw gives her an understanding smile.  “I’m looking for Alex Croft.”  Unlike the bartender, the waitress answers without hesitation.  “Back pole.” 

Shaw makes her way to the back and realizes Alex is a dancer.  A female dancer.  She’s currently facing away from Shaw.  Shaw can’t help but notice she has sexy long legs, which are currently clad in killer red pole-dancing stilettos.  She has a tight ass and an elegant back, but she’s a hot mess on the pole, as graceful as a grizzly bear on roller skates.  Shaw smirks, but notices the men, and several women, don’t seem to mind as they eagerly stuff her g-string with cash. 

The dim lighting makes it difficult to see until the dancer twirls on the pole and faces Shaw.  She’s topless and Shaw admires her perky breasts, until it dawns on her she recognizes them and her eyes dart to the dancer’s face.  Root!  Root’s obviously using the alias Alex Croft.  

Root flashes Shaw a sexy smile, eyes smoldering as she licks her lower lip slowly.  Shaw’s first instinct is to yank her off the pole, but she realizes it might blow both their covers.  So her face remains impassive as her angry eyes rake Root’s body.  Root recognizes the anger in Shaw’s eyes and she wonders if it’s caused by the surprise of Root being on the same mission or by the fact Root’s dancing almost naked for a crowd of strangers, wearing nothing but a g-string barely covering her pussy. 

Most of the patrons are being respectful in their admiration, but suddenly Shaw sees a hand reaching up to slip a bill into Root’s g-string and it doesn’t stop when the bill is tucked, but rather keeps going and flagrantly grabs Root’s pussy.  Root’s already yanking his hand up and twisting the guy’s wrist, but Shaw slips behind him and pulls him out of Root’s grasp into a dark corner. 

She knees him in the balls so hard the guy almost faints, but she grabs a nearby glass and throws the contents in his face.  Evidently it’s not water because now he’s rubbing at his tearing eyes like they’re on fire, but he’s not passing out.  Good.  She wants him awake.  He’s hunched over grabbing his crotch but she holds him up against the wall by his shoulders.  “Too bad you didn’t pay attention in kindergarten when they taught you to keep your hands to yourself.  Clearly you need a refresher course…”  Shaw pauses and he gets the point she’s asking for his name.  

“Todd.  She’s just a whore dancing on a pole; that’s why she’s there.”  Until he uttered those words she was going to go easy on him, thinking he’s drunk, but his eyes are lucid and his speech is clear. 

She stands preternaturally still, which Todd misinterprets as acquiescence.  Her hand moves so fast, he doesn’t even react when she pulls his head down to meet her knee, breaking his nose.  She follows it up with a punch to the gut and feels a rib crack.  Suddenly Reese is by her side yanking her away, a strong grip on her forearm.  

“We can’t afford to make a scene here Shaw.”  Reese has seen this look on Shaw’s face before when she’s out for blood during a gun fight or one of them gets hurt…actually only when a particular one of them gets hurt.  Root.  It doesn’t make sense in this context, but there’s no time to figure it out.  

He looks back at the guy now sprawled in a corner holding his abdomen.  Luckily the music is ear-splittingly loud and the corner’s dark, so no one’s noticed the guy kissing the floor.  Shaw’s eyes are slowly clearing and Reese looks at her questioningly.  “He abused one of the dancers.”  Oh.  Reese doesn’t stand for men abusing women in any fashion.  “Okay, I’m going to escort him to the alley before someone notices him.  Did you find Alex?”  Shaw nods. 

“Fusco’s on his way.  Meet him out front and he’ll get Alex to safety.  Then meet me by the bathroom downstairs.  There’s a door guarded by another one of those beefy bouncers, except this one’s armed.  Whatever we’re looking for has to be behind that door.”  

Shaw doesn’t bother to explain about Root.  Once Reese is gone she turns back to the pole, but Root’s disappeared.  Of course.  Shaw takes a deep breath and looks around.  There’s a door set into the wall behind the pole.  She finds a small dressing room area where Root’s munching on an apple and obviously waiting for her.  “Hey sweetie.  Thanks for rushing to defend my honor.  It was really hot seeing you kick his ass on my behalf.”  She leers at Shaw and whispers in her ear, “I’ll have to repay you later.” 

Shaw ignores her comments.  “What are you doing here Root?” 

“The same thing you are I imagine.” 

“Why didn’t She tell Finch you were on the same mission?” 

Root shrugs.  “I don’t know.  But She always has a reason.  Trust Her.” 

Shaw blurts out her thought before she thinks.  “I don’t trust Her.  I trust you.” 

Root looks shocked at the outburst but quickly recovers.  She doesn’t address Shaw’s comment and tells her what she knows.  “The owner of the club, Miller, is selling stinger missiles to a nationalist group.  They plan to shoot down a China Air flight in protest of what they see as lopsided trade policies.” 

“The Machine sent us your number.  You blew it.  They’re on to you.” 

Root cocks her head.  “She says we need to work together.”  Shaw rolls her eyes.  “Let’s go.”  But before Root takes a step she steps in front of her.  “Get dressed Root.” 

Root looks down and remembers she threw on a shirt, but hadn’t gotten around to pants.  She also needs her shoes, because the stilettos are definitely not kicking-ass attire.  She grins at Shaw.  “Oops.”  Once she’s dressed, Shaw takes out her backup piece.  “I presume you’re not armed?”  

“Nope.  It was a naked audition.  Even I’m not that creative.”  Shaw’s face muscles tighten imperceptibly but she doesn’t ask and just hands Root the gun.  She almost tells her to bring the shoes. 

Reese isn’t surprised to see Root.  Now it all makes sense.  He can only imagine what the guy must’ve done to make Shaw so angry.  She doesn’t normally treat Root like a shrinking violet.  The woman’s as deadly as all of them.  Probably more so, since her moral compass mostly reflects her psychopathic tendencies.  But recently he’s noticed more of a tempered response from her.  He attributes it to the Machine and Finch’s influence.  But maybe it’s also due to Shaw.  They share a moral ambiguity they’ve both needed to adjust.  Shaw wasn’t any less lethal than Root when she started working with Reese and Finch.  Then again neither was Reese when Finch found him. 

“Hi Lurch.  Looks like we’re working together on this one.”  Reese’s expression doesn’t change.  “Root.  What do you know?” 

Root reads him in.  “We need to wait until the leader of the nationalist group gets here.  Otherwise they’ll just buy their weapons from some other arms dealer.  We need to sneak into that office without drawing attention, so we can’t blast our way inside.” 

Reese nods subtly in the direction of the guard outside the office door.  Root spots the back door and smiles wickedly.  “I have an idea.”  Shaw knows she’s not going to like it. 

Root grabs her by the arm and they walk towards the office.  Without warning she pushes Shaw against the wall and captures her mouth, thrusting ravenously with her tongue.  Shaw automatically grips Root’s ass to pull her closer, before she remembers where they are and what they’re doing.  But they still have to make it look good for the guard, so she takes a few seconds to savor Root’s lips.  She peeks behind Root and sees the guard leering at them. 

They stumble towards him still kissing and he braces them before they fall.  “Looks like you two are having fun.”  Root pulls away from Shaw and looks at him her eyes smoldering with desire.  He doesn’t need to know it’s for Shaw.  “Want to join?  We can step outside for a few.”  He’s practically salivating and when Shaw smiles at him seductively, they can see he’s made up his mind.  He glances at the office door briefly, but then steps outside with them.  He’s already unzipping his fly, “we need to be quick…” when Reese comes out behind him and knocks him out.  “He’ll be out for awhile.  Let’s go.” 

 

* * *

 

Three rooms share a long corridor.  They check the first two doors silently and find a bathroom and a small storage room with three crates.  Shaw pries one open and confirms it’s the stingers.  Root cocks her head.  “You two stay with the missiles.  We can take them down when they come to show the buyer the weapons.  I’ll wait in the bathroom and cover you.”  Shaw’s not crazy about the plan but she doesn’t know why exactly and she doesn’t have a better one, so they settle in to wait. 

Shaw and Reese set up inside the storage room on either side of the door.  “Reese, did you see any cameras in here?” 

“No.” 

It dawns on Shaw why she doesn’t like this plan.  Root won’t have the Machine in her ear to help.  She’ll have to cover their backs, while simultaneously making sure no one flanks them from the office.  Until they neutralize the men in the storage room Reese and Shaw will be stuck inside, unable to help.  Shaw sighs internally.  Root knew she’d be flying blind, but has no qualms about risking her life unnecessarily if the Machine tells her to do so.  They’re going to have a talk about Root’s recklessness.  Risking your life is one thing, doing it carelessly and needlessly is just stupid. 

Root hears the door to the office open and footsteps start down the corridor.  She counts three distinct patterns.  She waits until she hears the storage room door open before stepping out into the hallway.  The second Shaw and Reese engage the first two men, the third man pivots, checking the corridor behind them.  Root’s forced to focus on him first instead of checking the office.  The moment she turns she feels more than hears someone rushing up behind her.  She shoots and pivots again, not bothering to check if the first man is neutralized. 

But it’s given the woman Shaw spotted before time to reach her.  Instead of shooting, she launches herself at Root, knocking her to the ground, her gun clattering out of her reach.  Her punch feels like a steel hammer to Root’s face and she sees stars behind her eyes.  But Root’s lithe and quick and she manages to kick the woman off her, regaining her feet and diving for her gun. 

The woman ducks back into the office and Root gives chase.  Waiting inside would’ve given steel arms the advantage, but instead she reaches her arm around the door and fires blindly.  Root shoots through the door, hitting her target center mass.  As she starts to turn she hears two shots.  Then she crumbles to the floor.

 

* * *

  

She wakes up in the subway, Shaw sitting next to the camp bed.  Root knows what she’ll see in her eyes before she looks, but as she catches Shaw’s gaze, she’s speechless to find not anger, but something softer.  “The bullet grazed your skull Root.  Another inch and he’d have nailed you with a head shot.”  Shaw’s whispering like saying it aloud will change the outcome.  Root’s not sure what to say or how to respond.  She doesn’t know how to deal with worried Shaw.  Or maybe even scared Shaw. 

So she grins lopsidedly.  “You know I have a hard head sweetie…” 

Shaw doesn’t let her finish, her bark drowning out Root’s words.  “Don’t.”  She takes a deep breath and exhales slowly.  “You can’t keep risking your life pointlessly.  You’re going to get yourself killed.” 

“I’m not Lionel Sameen.  You don’t have to protect me.” 

“Really?  Because if I’d been two seconds later he would’ve killed you while you lay unconscious on the floor.  You’d be dead instead of here with a bad headache and a concussion.” 

“Sacrifices have to be made Sameen.  We need to win this war.  No matter the cost.” 

“Maybe.  But you knew there weren’t any cameras Root.  You knew the likely outcome.  You should’ve been with Reese and me in the storage room.  We could’ve covered each other instead of you stepping into the crossfire.  There was a better way.  So explain to me why you risked your life so cavalierly.  This wasn’t even about Samaritan.” 

“Actually, it was.  Greer was manipulating the nationalist group in order to provoke the US and China into conflict.  The idea being Samaritan would be given all the NSA feeds, including those monitoring other countries.  With China’s nuclear power the threat would be very real.  Greer and the Senator would be in a perfect position to argue for increased security in the form of Samaritan.  So you see Sameen, it _was_ a critical mission.” 

Shaw’s not a fan of the Machine.  But this leading them around blindly, not giving them all the information at its disposal so they can make smarter decisions, it needs to stop.  A plan to stop some low level arms dealer and a crazy nationalist making a deal in the backroom of a club doesn’t require much thought.  But stopping Samaritan from starting a world war and sucking up even more power should’ve been given a little more consideration, not to mention preparation.  But Shaw knows there’s no point arguing with Root.  She won’t defy Her. 

Shaw, on the other hand, prides herself on being a wild card.  If the Machine won’t take better care of Root and Root won’t take better care of herself, then Shaw will do it.  That’s what she does; the protecting. 

“I’m going to get us something to eat.  Don’t get up while I’m gone.  I don’t want to have to pick you up off the floor again.  You’re not as light as you look.”  Root’s about to ask why Reese didn’t carry her out of the club, but she doesn’t need the Machine to give her the odds that Shaw didn’t let him.  So she leans back onto the pillow.  “Okay sweetie.”

 

* * *

 

 

Shaw stops in front of the first security camera she comes across.  She stares into it until the red light blinks twice and she knows she has the Machine’s attention.  “You need her to fight for you.  You picked her.  So what’s the point if she doesn’t survive long enough to help you, and us, defeat Samaritan?  Or are we all expendable to you?  If she dies, what?  You’ll just find another interface?  That’s what you’ve learned from Finch about caring for people?  Because let me tell you, then he sucks at his job.  So.  I’m going to take care of her and you’re going to give us all the information we need or I swear I will take a sledgehammer to every server in this country until you’re nothing but a memory.  The world be damned.”  The red light blinks twice and the nearby payphone starts to ring.  Shaw ignores it and heads back to the subway.

 

* * *

 

Shaw finds Root lightly dozing.  She slumps into the chair by the bed and thinks about her life, what it’s become, who she’s becoming.  When did she start caring?  Shouldn’t she be running as far away from here, as far away from Root as she can possibly get?  Because she may not admit it to anyone else, but there’s no denying it’s about more than the mission.  This thing with Root.  

She’s known for a long time.   She’d been able to compartmentalize, but lately it seems like more trouble than it’s worth.  They’re not going to live normal lives.  They’ll be lucky to survive much longer.  So why not just do what feels good, what feels right?  Who exactly is she protecting?  She’s told Root it’s just sex and she’s going to get her heart broken, but it’s not like Root listens anyway.  She’s never believed it for a minute, no matter what Shaw does or says and she’s done and said some pretty shitty things.  But Root just gives her the enigmatic look and the full body smile like Shaw’s made some declaration of undying love she forgot about. 

“Hey sweetie.  What you’d get?” 

Shaw looks at her in confusion, then remembers she said she was going to get them something to eat.  “There were too many people and I didn’t feel like waiting.” 

Root wonders why Shaw’s lying, but figures it’s no big deal.  Shaw’s not going to tell her anyway.  “I’m okay Sameen.  You should go home and get some sleep.” 

“That’s the best idea you’ve had all day.  Infinitely better than your stupid let’s save the world from Samaritan domination plan.”  Root smiles at her lovingly and Shaw stands up, shying away from the intensity in Root’s eyes. 

She pulls on her jacket and looks back at Root.  “Well?  What are you waiting for?  Let’s go home.  The Thai place down the street is better anyway.” 

Root’s not sure if it’s the concussion and she misheard.  But no, Shaw’s still standing here.  Maybe she just feels responsible for checking on Root every couple of hours.  “Sameen I can have Her wake me every couple of hours.  It’s okay.  You don’t have to take care of me.” 

Shaw scoffs.  “I don’t trust Her to take care of Bear at this point.”  Maybe Shaw’s tired or maybe she thinks Root deserves more than her feigned indifference, but for once she just goes with whatever feeling it is that plagues her whenever Root’s around.  It feels like a heart attack, but it turns into an annoying ache when it’s gone.  When Root’s gone.  “Look Root.  Don’t make a big deal about it.  Let’s just go home.” 

Root jumps up and Shaw has to brace her when her dizziness almost knocks her on her ass.  You’d think she’d just won the lottery instead of being shot in the head, her smile’s just all kinds of crazy.  Shaw rolls her eyes and shakes her head, but holds Root’s hand all the way home.  Because of the concussion.  It will just be more trouble for her if Root falls.


End file.
